The Nice Man In The Woods
by NerdyPotterhead
Summary: A five year old Harry is completely miserable living with the Dursleys, while Sirius has recently been released from jail. His one goal is to see Harry and make sure he is okay, but doing so is a bit more complicated than he had originally hoped.
1. Prologue

As a small boy named Harry Potter was resting underneath the staircase at number four Privet Drive, his godfather had been released from jail. Sirius only had one man to thank for that, Albus Dumbledore. He had worked for two years to prove that Sirius was innocent and finally his work had paid off.

Sirius walked up to Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts to thank him. He knocked on the door and after a few short moments an old man opened it up, very pleased to see him.

"Ah, Sirius, I was hoping I'd be able to see you soon. Come in, sit down," he gestured for him to sit at a table with him.

"I just have to say, I can't thank you enough for helping free me," Sirius said with complete gratitude.

"How could I ever let an innocent man stay imprisoned? It was only the right thing to do. How have you been since you left?"

"Much better. Azkaban is hell as you could imagine"

"Yes, I've heard many stories about other's times being tortured by the dementors," Dumbledore poured them each a cup of tea.

"Now, professor, I know you have already done so much for me, but I have something else to ask."

"Yes?" Albus asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, you already know that James and Lily have me listed as Harry's godfather." Dumbledore nodded.

"Could I take him from his muggle relatives to have him live with me?" Sirius asked, waiting for the answer he wanted.

"I wish I could, Sirius, but it's a bit more complicated than that," Sirius felt immediate disappointment, "I have placed many spells on their house to keep him safe. It's the safest place for Harry to be right now. I'm sorry."

"Professor, are you sure?" Sirius asked desperately.

"Yes, I am. When we put the safeties on the house, we still thought you were guilty. There's no way to easily change this,," Dumbledore told him, standing from his chair, "I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, but I have other business I have to tend to." He led Sirius to the door.

"Well, if you change your mind or find another way, please tell me," Sirius said halfway out the door.

"I will," The door then closed between the two. As Sirius left Hogwarts he knew only one thing. He needed to see Harry and make sure he was okay.


	2. Chapter 1

Harry was fast asleep soon to be woken up by his aunt. He was merely five years old at the time and in a few months he would start his first year in school. A loud rapping woke the boy with a jump. With his heart pounding from surprise he knew his day was about to start again.

"Boy, get up," his aunt yelled as she unlocked the cupboard door. Harry quickly got dressed and went into the hallway.

"I need you to scrub the kitchen floor and when you're done do all the bathrooms," his aunt grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed him towards the kitchen. He stumbled and fell, landing on his knees with a thud. He felt his already bruised skin pain him as he hit the floor. He quickly got up and grabbed the bucket and sponge. As he scrubbed the floor on his hands and knees, he felt more pain emerged from the bruises on his knees. After some time he became used to it and the feeling went away. He finished the floors in the kitchen and bathrooms to the best of his ability and went back to the kitchen where his aunt, cousin, and uncle were sitting.

"Aunt Petunia, I'm done. Can I please have something to eat, please?" He asked as nicely as he could.

"I'll give you food when you deserve food," Aunt Petunia scolded. Harry looked over to his cousin, Dudley. He was ravenously eating his breakfast. Harry felt jealousy, sadness and hunger growing inside of him. He didn't understand why he did all the work and barely got fed, while Dudley did nothing and got all the food in the world.

"But Dudley gets food," He says with tears swelling up in his eyes. He hadn't eaten anything for two whole days.

"Boy, if your aunt says you don't deserve food, then you don't" His uncle admonished. A few tears fell from Harry's eyes as his stomach growled louder than usual.

"Don't you give me that look," His uncle got out from his chair and started approaching the boy. This caused Harry to back away slowly until he was up against a wall.

"You have given us so much grief over the last four years and this is how you thank us?" He grabbed Harry's shirt and lifted him a few inches off the ground. He slowly put him back on the floor and said, "Come with me." Harry didn't like the sound of that. He knew that he was only punished when he was alone with his uncle. He quietly followed his uncle, walking up the stairs. More tears streamed down his face, knowing exactly what he was in for. Once they were in the study, Vernon Dursley lifted his nephew so he was up against the wall at eye level with him.

"You do realize we didn't have to take you in after your parents got themselves killed," Harry could feel his uncle's breath on his face as he sounded each word, "We could've left you at an orphanage. They treat children much worse than we treat you. And this is how you decide to thank us? By asking for something you don't deserve?" Harry tried to stay as still as possible waiting for his punishment to end, not answering any of the questions. He knew what would happen to him if he did that.

"You know your parents never actually wanted you. They never loved you. That's why they got themselves killed." Vernon's fist went straight to Harry's stomach. The blow knocked the air right out of him. He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate, trying to get the air back into his lungs. Vernon began to drag him down the stairs, tightly gripping his wrist. Yet another bruise was sure to appear there later. Harry continued to try and catch his breath, but the thump of each step didn't help. Vernon then threw the small boy back into his cupboard, slamming the door shut and locking him up. He didn't say a word as he walked away.

The poor boy was left in the cupboard all alone, his stomach and back aching from the agitation to the bruises that were already there. He was still taking short small breaths from both the blow to his stomach and trying to stop the sound of sobs from slipping past his mouth. Once he could breathe normally again, his sobs turned into soft whimpers. He held his stomach in pain and closed his eyes. He felt his knobby knees shaking in fear. He didn't know when or if his uncle would come back and hurt him again.

Why couldn't I have parents who love me? Why can't I have a mommy that hugs me when I'm sad like what Dudley has? Harry thought to himself. He was now laying on his side with his thin legs pressed up against his chest. Thoughts like these ones passed through his mind for a while, but soon enough he calmed down. Yet he was not let out of his cupboard for the rest of the day.

The next morning Harry woke up to the sounds of his stomach growling. He felt like he was starving. This was his third day without any food. The only thing he had been allowed was some water, but that was it. The feeling of hunger also made his head feel dizzy. He really wanted something to eat, even if it was scraps of old food from the trash. He pushed on the cupboard door in hopes that it was unlocked, but it wasn't. He tried to look through the small slits in the door to try and figure out what time of day it was. It looked like it was still dark in the hallway, which meant no one had come downstairs yet. Harry knew that this meant he could be sitting in complete darkness, with no noise at all in his confined space for hours as he had done many times before. He much preferred being able to hear people walking around than having total silence.

In the midst of his thoughts he got a bad feeling in his lower abdomen, he needed to use the bathroom. To him that feeling was much worse than being hungry. At least when he was hungry he didn't make a mess of himself and get his uncle angrier. He tried to not think about it and go back to sleep. That would make the pain of hunger in his stomach and pressure on his bladder go away.

After an hour or so of not being able to sleep, the feeling needing to use the bathroom increased. He feared that he wouldn't be able to hold it in much longer because his small body wasn't very good at controlling his bladder. Finally he saw the lights flip on, someone was downstairs. He listened for the footsteps, wishing they'd stop at his door. They didn't. Starting to feel desperate, he softly knocked on the door to get the person's attention.

"What do you want?" he heard his aunt's shrill voice sound through the door.

"Can I use the bathroom, please, Aunt Petunia," he said timidly.

"No, and don't mess yourself either," She told him sternly, quickly walking away. Harry dreaded the answer. If he wasn't allowed to relieve himself soon, he knew he would wet himself. He sat there, trying to focus on not having the contents of his bladder spill all over the room. It was hard and he was sure he wouldn't last. Fifteen minutes later he was sweating, the feeling of needing to relieve himself was terrible. Suddenly he felt a warm liquid drip down his leg. He had failed and he was in trouble now, he knew his aunt or uncle would open the door, see him like this and he would be in trouble. He started crying softly as he emptied himself all over his pants and the cupboard floor. He would certainly be punished.

Almost immediately after he finished relieving himself, the cupboard door swung open. Standing there was his uncle. He looked down and saw the mess he had made every where. Harry looked up at the big beefy man, his face turning red with anger. Harry sat there frightened, with his eyes red from the crying and tears streaming down his face.

"What the hell are you doing, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked, grabbing the collar of Harry's shirt. He lifted him up once again and pinned the boy onto the wall.

"You are a freak and that's all you will ever be," He told him and slapped Harry in the face. He then dragged him outside and behind the house. He threw him on the ground and grabbed the garden hose. He turned the pressure on high and started spraying Harry. Harry cringed as the freezing water thrusted against his skin. It stung badly, so he tried to cover as much of his body as he could, but it was useless. If his uncle wanted him to feel pain, he would. Vernon Dursley didn't turn the water off until Harry was completely soaked and he had sprayed the boy to his content.

"Don't you dare come back inside until we tell you to," his uncle told him, putting down the hose and stomping back inside. Harry crawled over to a shady area under a tree to get out of the heat of the early morning. He laid there uncomfortably in his heavy, wet clothes, softly sobbing to himself.


	3. Chapter 2

A few months went by and it was finally time for Harry and Dudley to start their first year in school. Harry had been unsure about the idea of school, but now liked it more. It made his aunt and uncle nicer to him. He still had to do the same amount of chores, but he didn't mind it as much because now he was allowed more food to eat when he was finished. He always had at least one meal a day if he wasn't a good boy, and two if he didn't make his aunt and uncle angry. He also wasn't beaten as severely if he was bad. He wasn't hit in the face anymore, mainly his upper arms and thighs. He liked that because sometimes when he was hit on his face his lip or nose would start to bleed, but when he was hit on his arms and legs nothing bled.

On the morning of Harry's first day of school his aunt gave him a apple to eat. This was a special treat for him, since he could only remember one other time he had gotten to eat one. He loved how sweet and juicy they were and how they made a sort of crunch noise when you bit a piece off. Harry also got new clothes that day, well, they weren't exactly new, but they were new to him. They were actually old clothes that Dudley had grown out of, but it was better than the two or three ratty outfits Harry already had. If this was what he got before school even started, he wondered what else he might get. The thought of it excited him.

Petunia, Dudley, and Harry pulled up to the new school and walked inside. In the hallway where his classroom resided there were already loads of moms and dads with their kids. Harry looked around and noticed there was not a single kid without a parent by their side. He thought there might be at least one other kid like him, but it turned out he was wrong. Aunt Petunia walked with the boys to the door of the classroom where their teacher was waiting to greet the students and parents.

"Hello, what's your name?" The woman leaned over and asked Harry.

"Harry," he told her quietly, in his high pitched voice.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Harry," she said as she checked his name off a list, "I'm Ms. Riley. And you are?" She asked looking at his aunt.

"Petunia Dursley. I'm his aunt," she informed her.

"And I'm guessing this one's your son, Dudley," She said referring to her list. Petunia nodded, looking down at her son who was clutching onto her hand.

"Well, if you can help your children find their seats, that'd be great!" She said cheerfully.

"This one's yours," Petunia told Harry, pointing to a desk with his name written on it in red marker. Harry sat down and watched as his aunt walked away to find his cousin's desk. The first thing Harry looked to was his name tag. He recognized the letters since his aunt allowed him to watch educational videos with Dudley before going to school. He enjoyed watching the videos since they made him feel relaxed. He also liked learning about letters and numbers. Harry looked up from his desk and looked around the room. There were tons of posters on the walls with even more letters and numbers on them. This excited the little boy greatly. He also noticed how some of the other kids had still had their parents kneeling beside them. A few of the kids were crying, it seemed like they were crying because their parent wanted to leave. Harry wondered if he would cry too if his mommy or daddy were there with him and about to leave. He decided that he probably wouldn't have. He would've been too excited about going to school to care.

"Hi," Harry heard a boy say to him.

"Uh, hi," Harry replied back. He wasn't sure what he was suppose to say since he rarely had conversations with other people.

"What's your name?" the boy asked,

"Harry," he told the boy.

"I'm Robert."

"It's nice to meet you, Robert," Harry said, mimicking the short conversation he had with his teacher earlier.

"What do you think of school?" He asked.

"Well, I think I like it so far."

"My brother says that you're not supposed to like school. He's eleven, so he knows." This impressed Harry, he had never spoken to someone who was eleven before. He assumed that Robert knew a lot about how school worked since his brother probably told him everything.

"I don't have a big brother, so I didn't know," Harry told him. Before the boys could say anymore, their teacher interrupted the conversation.

"Welcome to your first year in school. How about we start out by going around and having everyone say their name and favorite color. I'm Ms. Riley and my favorite color is purple." She pointed to the child seated closest to her and went around the room having everyone answer the question. Harry sat there nervously, he didn't know what he was supposed to say. He wondered if there was a right answer to the question, like there was with Robert's question. He didn't know how he was supposed to know it since nobody ever told him. The question finally came around to him and Harry had to think of an answer fast.

"I'm Harry and I like red," he said quickly. A few other kids had said red before, so he hoped they knew what they were doing better than he did.

The rest of the time before lunch went fairly smoothly. It was mostly Ms. Riley who did the talking so Harry didn't have to worry about it. They went over simple things like letters, numbers, and class rules. It surprised Harry as to how different the class rules were in comparison to the ones at home. He knew that they would be much easier to follow.

At lunch Harry sat down with a paper bag filled with half a sandwich, some crisps, and a small water bottle. Robert sat beside him and started up the conversation again.

"Do you know anyone in our class?" he asked.

"Well, Dudley is my cousin."

"I think I know some people from the church I go to, but I've never really talked to them."

"Oh," Harry said, unsure how to carry on the conversation.

"Why don't you sit with your cousin?"

"Uh, he's mean to me sometimes," he said simply.

"Oh, well you must not like having class with him."

"No, its okay." The two boys kept talking for the remainder of lunch, even though it was more of a one way conversation with Robert doing most of the talking. Ms. Riley then called the class to door. Harry was confused as to where they were going since they weren't leaving the cafeteria the same way they came in.

"Where are we going?" He asked Robert.

"Recess, of course," He replied, giving Harry a questioning look. The class got outside to the playground and Harry was in complete awe. There were so many things to play on and they were so big. He had watched as Dudley played on something like this in a park before, but he had never been allowed to play on it himself. Since he had no idea where to start, he just followed Robert around and played on everything he was. When the class was called in, Harry was happy. He was never allowed to have this much fun before.

A few weeks went by and life for Harry was better than he could ever remember it being. Since he was now going to school, there was less time that he had to do chores and get yelled at by his uncle. Of course, when he got home from school he still had to do chores and if he didn't do them to his aunt's content, his uncle would beat him in any areas that were covered by clothes. He still didn't like that part, but he decided it was better than it was before. His only friend was Robert, but he was happy he had at least one.

"Hey, Robert," Harry called out one day on the playground, "Do you want to go play over there on the swings?"

"Harry, I can't play with you anymore," Robert told him.

"Why not?" Harry asked, confused and scared of losing his only friend.

"Well, Dudley and his friends told me that you were a freak and that if I kept playing with you, I'd be a freak too and they'd have to beat me up," he explained.

"What?" Harry asked, feeling his eyes begin to water.

"They said that they were gonna beat you up and if I didn't stop hanging out with you, they'd beat me up too."

"B-but-" He was speechless. He had no idea how to respond, everything had been fine just the day before.

"Sorry, I'm gonna go before they see me with you." Robert then ran away to play with a different group of children.

Harry was shocked. His knees felt weak and shaky like they were going to collapse. Things had been going so well. He had a friend, someone to play with, someone who liked being around him. Without that he was back to square one, having no one. He watched as Robert happily played with some other kids. They must've been the ones from church he had mentioned. Harry walked over to a wooden bench and sat down.

Why did Dudley have to do that? Harry thought to himself, wiping tears away from his eyes. I know I am a freak at home, but I don't want to be a freak at school too. No one will want to play with me now if they think they'll get beaten up. Dudley hasn't even tried to beat me up. Why does Robert think it's true? Thoughts scrambled through his head as Harry began to wipe away a more continuous stream of tears.

"Hey freak," Harry heard from behind him as two hands on his back pushed him to the ground. Harry turned around and looked up. It was Dudley and his gang. Harry didn't say anything. This reminded him too much of what he had gone through at home.

"Good thing your friend left you. Now you're alone," Dudley said, kicking him in the stomach. The other boys joined in kicking Harry from his chest to his knees. He tried to stand up and get away, but while he was getting up one of Dudley's crew kicked him in the ankle. This caused Harry to fall in a puddle of mud right next to the bench he was sitting on. He was now lying in the puddle and covered in mud. His new clothes were extremely dirty. His aunt would be angry for sure.

In tears, Harry stood up and this time was actually able to run away. He didn't understand how things could be so great one minute and terrible the next. He looked down at his clothes to see how dirty they actually were. The entire left side of his shirt and pants were completely soaked in mud. Now not only would he get beat up in school, he would get beat up at home too. Without thinking, Harry ran into the forest behind the playground. By that point Dudley's gang had stopped chasing and the school was in the distance. Harry sat down on the stump of a tree and let himself cry.

"Harry," He heard a voice from a distance. After a moment he saw a man he had never seen before appear from the overgrown weeds in the forest.


	4. Chapter 3

In fear of the strange man, he got up from his stump and started running back towards the school.

"Harry, wait!" The strange man called. Harry didn't trust him. He didn't know how the man knew his name, but he didn't feel the need to find.

"Harry, you can trust me! I'm not going to hurt you!" Harry stopped and looked back at the man. He decided he still didn't trust him and kept going towards the school.

"Harry, I was friends with your parents! I know that they died when you were just a baby and now you live with your aunt, uncle, and cousin." How does the man know all those things about me? Harry thought. He turned around and took a couple steps toward the man.

"H-How do you know that?" Harry asked nervously.

"Like I said, I was really good friends with your parents. We went to school together." Harry stood there silently, apprehensive and scared.

"I have a picture of them with me. You can look at it if you want." This greatly interested the boy. He had never seen a picture of his parents before. His aunt and uncle didn't let him know anything about them. He walked towards the man so he was only a few feet away. Harry did not want to get too close. The man reached his arm out to hand Harry the photograph. He grabbed it and looked at it. In the picture were two men and a woman sitting under a tree at what looked like a park. The woman had a baby in her arms.

"The man on the right is me," the stranger informed Harry, "the man standing next to me is your father, James. The woman is your mother, Lily, and you are in her arms." Harry looked closely at the picture. He could see that one of the men did look like the stranger standing before him. He also recognized the woman's eyes, they looked just like his. Even the shade of green was the same. The other man had some facial features that Harry recognized in himself, like the shape of his face and nose.

What did he say my parent's names again? Harry thought to himself, still staring intently at every detail of the picture. I think he said James and Lily. Wait, James, isn't that my middle name? I think I remember Aunt Petunia telling me it is.

"I think my middle name is James," Harry told the man.

"Yes, it is. It was after your father's name. Oh, and by the way, my name is Sirius, but you can call me padfoot if you'd like. Thats what James er your father called me."

"Um, I'll call you Sirius," Harry said. He thought Padfoot was kind of odd, "This is my name on the back of the picture, I think," Harry thought aloud. He had turned over the photo and recognized the letters from his name tag in class.

"Yeah it is," Sirius agreed, "It says James, Sirius, Lily and Harry at the park on May 18th, 1981." Harry stared longingly into the picture, not really paying attention to Sirius.

"So Harry, how have you been with your aunt and uncle?" Harry's heart skipped a beat. He didn't expect to be asked that question, "Fine" He lied. Aunt Petunia told him not to tell anybody about how his uncle hits him or else he'd be in big trouble. Harry didn't want to risk it.

"So they're good to you and all?" Sirius asked again. Harry merely nodded, feeling bad for lying.

"What were my parents like?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well, your dad was great guy. He was kind and athletic, he also was a great at playing pranks. We used to do play pranks on people all the time. And your mother-" Before he could finish a loud whistle sounded from the playground.

"That means I have to go back to class," Harry explained, "I wish I could hear more."

"If you want I could meet you here at the same time tomorrow."

"Okay." Harry said, "Oh and here's your picture," He quickly handed it back to the man, immediately racing back to the school. He couldn't remember if Sirius had said he could keep it or not. He figured that it was better just to give it back.

That night Harry laid in the cupboard excited for tomorrow. He couldn't wait to hear what else Sirius had to tell him about his parents. He didn't even care that his breakfast and dinner privileges were taken away since he came home with muddy clothes. He just wanted to hear more. He thought it was so cool that his father was a prankster. He wished he could play a prank on his aunt, uncle or Dudley. Even though he'd get in trouble, it would still be funny. Harry laid there with his thoughts until he slowly drifted to sleep.

The next day at recess, the first thing Harry did was going back to the woods. Trying not to pay attention with anyone else, he ran straight back. He sat on the same tree stump as he had the day before and waited. He found himself waiting for what felt like ten minutes and started to worry Sirius wouldn't come.

"Sirius?" He said hoping he would come out.

"Hello, Harry," He responded coming out of the same bush as yesterday.

"Oh, I thought you weren't going to come."

"Sorry, I got here as soon as I could. I got caught up in some other business."

"Oh," Harry wondered what the business was, but decided not to ask.

"So where did we leave off yesterday?" Sirius asked.

"Uh, you told me that you and my dad would do pranks."

"Yes, would you like to hear about one of them?" Harry nodded, "Well there was this one other boy in school that we didn't like too much and we wanted to prank him. We figured out a way to sneak into his dormitory and once we were there we replaced all of his clothes with frilly pink dresses." Harry laughed, he wished he could do that to Dudley. That would be even funnier.

"You were also going to tell me about my mommy," He said as he stopped laughing.

"Oh yes, Lily. She was a wonderful girl. She was probably the nicest person I knew. She was also brilliant, probably the smartest girl in our class. I bet you picked up on some of her smarts too." Sirius told him. Harry thought about this. He hoped he picked up on her smarts. He would like that.

"Also, you gave this back to me yesterday," He pulled the photo out, "I want you to keep it." Sirius handed Harry the photo, he was very glad he was able to keep it.

"Do you want to hear more stories?" Sirius asked.

"Okay," Harry nodded.

"Well, this one is more about you when you were a baby than it is about your parents. So it was only a week after you were born and I was at your parents house to help take care of you. Your parents were awfully tired when they put you to bed that night. A few hours later your parents and l went to sleep. In the middle of the night I heard you crying. Since I didn't want you to wake your parents, I quickly ran over to your nursery. I picked you up from your crib and the second I did, you stopped crying. I could tell it was one of those cries that meant you just wanted someone to hold you, so I sat in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth as you quietly rested in my arms. You and I must've been asleep for the rest of the night because the next thing I remembered was Lily coming in the next morning and waking us up." Harry had a huge smile on his face after hearing this story. It was nice to know that at least in some point in his life, someone would come to him in the middle of the night if he was sad or scared.

"Do you remember any other stories from when I was little?" Harry asked. He wanted to hear more about a time when he was loved.

"Yeah, there was this one time when your dad and I played a prank on your mom. So your mom was in the kitchen cooking dinner and she was looking for flour. Now your dad spotted the flour before she had a chance to, so what we did was we hovered the bag of flour over her head so she couldn't see it."

"Wait, what do you mean you hovered it over her head?" Harry asked, confused.

"He made it float." Sirius responded.

"How did he do that?"

"With his wand, magic."

"Magic?" Harry wondered, "But my uncle says there's no such thing as magic."

"Really? He does? Well, Harry, he's wrong. Do you want to see some?"

"Yeah," He said excitedly.

"Okay watch that stone," they both kept their eyes on it, "Wingardium leviosa!" The stone lifted of the ground and began floating in mid air.

"Woah," Harry gasped, astonished.

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing. So you're sure everything is okay at home with your aunt and uncle?"

"It's all fine," Harry lied again. He didn't understand why Sirius was pushing the question so much.

"Okay, well, after James hovered the flour over Lily's head, he started sprinkling a bit onto her. It actually took her a little while to notice the flour on her shoulders. Once she did, she looked straight up and grabbed the flour from the air. For a moment, she wasn't very happy with us, but in the end she was laughing." Harry started giggling. He imagined the situation in his head and wondered what it would've been like to see it in real life.

"You know, Harry, your parents had me listed as your godfather," Sirius told him.

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"Well, technically it means that I was supposed to take care of you if anything happened to your parents."

"Then why do I live with my aunt and uncle?" Harry asked. He'd rather live with Sirius than his aunt and uncle. Even though he only knew the man for a day, Harry liked him much more than he ever liked his aunt and uncle.

"Bad things happened to me soon after your parents passed and I wasn't able to."

"Oh," Harry said wondering what bad things happened, but he decided not to ask. The whistle sounded again, promptly at the same time it had the day before.

"See you Monday?" Sirius asked as Harry started walking away.

"Yeah," Harry said, shoving the photo into his pocket. For the rest of the school day, Harry couldn't stop thinking about the stories he was told or the magic he was shown. He also still wanted to know what had happened that made him unable to live with Sirius. He assumed it couldn't have been something bad Sirius had done because he was a very nice man. Harry couldn't see him doing anything bad.

At the end of the school day, aunt Petunia picked the two boys up from school and brought them to the house. Dudley ran straight for the couch in front of the television and Harry walked toward his cupboard. As he was about to open the door, aunt Petunia grabbed his shoulder. Harry quickly realized she was looking at the corner of the photo that was sticking out of his pocket.

"What's this?" Petunia grabbed the photo from him and looked at it, still having Harry's shoulder firmly grasped, "Where did you get this from?" Harry had no idea what to say. She didn't seem very happy with him having a picture of his parents. He wanted to lie, but knew she would get even more angry.

"Uh, a man gave it to me," Harry tried to tell the truth, unsure how much of it he wanted to say. Without another word, Petunia grabbed the hair on top of his head and dragged him up into the study. He always went there when he was bad. Petunia pushed Harry up against the wall, pulling back on his hair harshly so he had to tilt his head backwards.

"Who gave you this photo?" She asked through her clenched teeth.

"A man in the woods behind the playground." He said still trying to tilt his head back so the pulling on his hair didn't hurt as badly.

"What was his name?"

"Uh, I don't remember," Harry said, trying to lie.

"Boy, I know you know. I'm going to ask one more time, what his name?" On the last word, she pulled his hair back quickly, knocking his head against the wall.

"Sirius. His name is Sirius," Harry felt tears well up in his eyes. He tried to blink them away. Petunia pushed the boy onto the floor. He put his hands on top of his head, rubbing his scalp.

"I'm calling your school about this, you freak. I'll let your uncle deal with you when he gets home," She walked out of the room. Harry heard the click of the lock as she closed the door. Harry sat on the ground, scared and perplexed. No, not my uncle! Harry thought to himself Why can't she just lock me in my cupboard without any food? Why does aunt Petunia care so much about the photo anyway? I guess she'd be mad that I go into the woods when I'm at recess, but why did she care so much about his name?

Harry moved over to the corner of the room, sitting, with his legs pressed up against his chest. He was preparing himself for when his uncle got home. He had no idea how long it would be. The time he had to think about it scared and stressed him out to the point where he felt like he was about to cry. But he didn't want to cry. Crying would give into his uncle's wrath, but it was hard for his young mind to overcome it. He ended up shedding tears anyways.

The door hit the wall loudly as his uncle slammed it open. He closed the door behind him and locked it. Harry sat there bracing himself.

"Your aunt told me what you've been up to," Vernon said, approaching the boy.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon," Harry tried to plea.

"Boy, you've never been sorry in your life and you know it," He said, lifting Harry into the air by his shirt. He grabbed a chair and sat in it, placing Harry's stomach on his beefy legs, with the boy's bottom in the air.

"You'll regret what you did after this," He said, pulling the small boy's pants down, so his behind was completely exposed. Vernon slapped Harry's bottom with great force. Enough that Harry yelped. This only caused his uncle to strike him harder. Harry got so many smacks that he felt like it would never stop. Finally, Vernon was satisfied with the pain and redness he had caused on Harry's bottom.

"You won't be able to sit straight for a week," uncle Vernon said, shrewdly. Harry believed it. His bottom hurt so badly that he could feel how red it was. His uncle dragged him by his ear downstairs into his cupboard. He laid there on his stomach trying not to make his bottom hurt anymore than it did. He could barely stand the pain. It felt like he was lit on fire. He cried into his pillow waiting and hoping the pain would subside.


End file.
